


How Do You Know?

by maplestreet83



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 06:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21387784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maplestreet83/pseuds/maplestreet83
Summary: Gilbert arrives home after the celebration at Ms. Stacey's house, his thoughts still reeling after the moment he shared with Anne on the porch. Now he has follow-up questions to ask Bash about love.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 94





	How Do You Know?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for your lovely comments and support for my first ever AwaE fic! I was nervous starting to write for a completely new story/genre, so hearing that you enjoyed it means a lot to me! Here is a quick little thing I wrote just before episode eight comes out, inspired in part by this post on tumblr (https://bitching-barista.tumblr.com/post/188800826060/gilbert-going-home-after-the-porch-scene-so-what). I'd really love to see a conversation like this between Gilbert and Bash!

The moon was high and the yard and the house quiet as Gilbert got back from the celebration at Ms. Stacey’s house. He walked up the porch steps, carefully pushing the old and creaky front door open as quietly as possible, as he didn’t want to wake anyone. Delphine would be sleeping for sure, and Bash was probably too, having woken up before dawn that morning to head out to the fields. It seemed like that was the case, the kitchen dark and empty as Gilbert stepped in. The fire in the stove having been put out, the only light in the room was the moonlight filtering through the curtains on the windows, and splaying on the cleared table and the worn wooden floor as he walked across it to go and pump some water into the sink. He leaned down and splashed some on his face. He was still feeling odd and disoriented, despite the walk home he had hoped would clear his head. But it hadn’t, his mind still playing over the details of the day; the worried way Anne had bit down on her lip as they’d waited on the steps of the school house, waiting for the others to arrive, and he had wanted nothing more but to ease her mind, to make her feel better. The feelings of exultation and elation he’d felt as they’d all marched towards the town hall together, as one loud unified group - a team. The gratification he’d felt getting to tear up the town council’s list right in front of their faces. And then, as always, came all the tiny details of his and Anne’s conversation on Ms. Stacey’s porch. The sound of her laugh, bright and free and melodic, the way her red hair shone in the moonlight, how her eyes had fixed on his face, on his eyes, on his lips…

“You’re back,” Gilbert snapped awake, quickly turning to look into the hallway where Bash had just stepped into the kitchen.

“Thought I’d heard something,” Bash continued, walking in.

“How was your protest? Was it successful?” he asked, going to grab a cup.

“Yes, I think so. At least we got their attention, that’s for sure,” Gilbert explained, starting to dry his hands on a kitchen towel.

“What I would’ve done to have seen the look on their faces,” Bash retorted with a grin and Gilbert nodded, his eyes focused out the window and onto the night sky, wondering if at Green Gables, Anne was still awake too, looking up at the same moon. If she was thinking back to their talk like he was.

“You alright over there?” 

“Huh?” Gilbert asked, not having caught what Bash had said. The man was standing next to him, his eyebrows high, gesturing over at the sink with his empty cup.

“Oh, sorry, here,” Gilbert said, stepping aside so Bash could fill his cup.

“Something on your mind there?” Bash asked, turning to face Gilbert, taking a drink.

“What, no. I’m just tired is all,” he tried to explain, not meeting his eye.

“Sure,” Bash said, not buying his excuse for a second. 

“If there is something bothering you, you can tell me. You know that, right?” he spoke again, his voice more serious and understanding this time. 

“Yes, I know,” Gilbert said, wringing the kitchen towel in his hands.

“It’s just…” he started to speak again but finding himself at a loss of words. Because how was he supposed to put into words how he had felt just now, sitting under the endless inky sky with Anne, her face so close to his that he could count the freckles on her face, as numerous and enchanting as the stars on the sky. 

He sighed, going to sit down at the kitchen table, focusing on the towel he started to fold up. 

“Is it about the protests? Were those old codgers giving you a hard time?” Bash asked, his brows furrowing as he sat opposite Gilbert. 

“No, I mean yes, but it’s not about that,” Gilbert said, shaking his head. 

"Do you remember…" he started again.

"That day when I asked you about how I knew I was sure I should marry someone?" 

"And you almost hacked right through that cutting board you were so frustrated? Yes I do," Bash answered, the hint of a grin back on his face. Gilbert sighed in frustration, maybe he should just forget about telling him, and push it all down again. But somehow this time he knew it wasn't going to be enough, this time something was different. 

"Well, then you told me that it wasn't enough to just have feelings of… fondness and interest for a girl. That the most important thing is love.” 

"I did, yes," Bash said with a nod, leaning his elbows on the table, leaning closer to hear what Gilbert had to say. 

"Well then, how do I know if it really is love? How can I tell?" Gilbert asked. 

"Oh, trust me, you'll know," Bash assured him with a knowing look on his face. That made Gilbert even more frustrated.

"You did, but I don't! It's all so confusing and intense and I don't understand it, I don't understand how I feel," Gilbert explained, his voice rising as his exasperation started to boil over. Bash turned to look along the hallway, focusing to hear if Delphine had woken up. But it seemed all was fine, so he turned back, his index finger on his lips, shushing Gilbert. 

"Sorry," the boy said, focusing back on the towel on the table in front of him. 

"Well," Bash started, his brow furrowing as he seemed to be thinking of what to say. 

"I can certainly tell it's getting serious, seeing you so worked up. It is really a change from before," he continued, and Gilbert looked back up at him. 

"Do you think so?" he asked, relieved to hear he wasn't the only one thinking there had been a change in the way he felt recently.

"For sure! Until now you've just said that you liked her, that she's easy to be around. Now the way you talk about her seems different," Bash explained, Gilbert quickly going to correct him:

"But it's not easy to be with her! I mean, it is, I like spending time with her, of course I do. But whenever I do, I don't know how to feel, how to act, what to say. And it didn’t use to be like this but suddenly… it’s just different, I feel different.”

He had turned to look down again, feeling his frustration grow once more, hearing his heartbeat in his ears. This was all so much, so fast, he truly didn’t know what to do about it. 

“If you want my advice,” Bash spoke up after a minute of silence between them.

“I think it sounds like you should start talking about marriage.”

“Really? Wouldn’t that be too soon?” Gilbert asked, snapping his head back up again. Did Bash really think it would be appropriate?

“Well I am slightly biased, given how I went about proposing to Mary. But you’ve met her family and you get along with them, you have been courting for a while now, so I think it wouldn’t come as a surprise to her or her parents,” Bash elaborated.

“Her parents?” Gilbert asked, confused.

“Yes, I think they liked you and would be happy for their daughter to marry you. And even though you say she doesn’t have expectations, I am sure Winifred is also waiting for you to ask for her hand,” Bash explained, and with every word he said, Gilbert felt like a new stone had been dropped into the pit of his stomach.

“But…” he started, but Bash interrupted him.

“You don’t need to make any decisions today. You have had a long and trying day, you need some sleep first. But after that, I do suggest you write to Winnie and set up a time for you to meet her in Charlottetown to discuss this,” he continued.

“No, but…” Gilbert tried to say but Bash continued:

“You don’t have to propose to her right away, but just talk about the possibility of it. And then you and her family can decide how to go about it, whether to have the wedding before you go to college or after, and…” he explained, and while he did, Gilbert just sat there, his hands gripping onto the towel. Because what he was saying was sensible, it sounded like a proper plan, one to present to Winnie’s parents. But at the same time it just felt so wrong, Gilbert felt his throat constricting, his head spinning again. It was like he was about to board a speeding train, heading for the edge of the cliff. He had to do something, say something; anything.

“It’s Anne!” he blurted out, almost yelling again.

“What?” Bash asked, quickly turning again to check for any noises from Dellie.

“I’m not talking about Winnie, Bash. I-,” Gilbert continued, running his hands over his face in exasperation. 

“I have feelings for Anne,” he concluded, and just like that the secret was out, a confession muttered into the dark air of the kitchen around them, only for the sleeping house and full moon to hear. 

“Oh,” Bash just breathed out, blinking as he looked at Gilbert, taking in the information. 

“Yeah,” Gilbert said, suddenly feeling exhausted, like the weight of carrying the words for so long had finally caught up with him. 

“Well that’s umm… I thought… Woah, I didn’t see this coming,” Bash finally said and Gilbert nodded as he turned to look down at the tabletop again. Because neither had he. He’d always liked Anne, that’s for sure, and found her interesting, smart and unique. But now it felt like all his feelings for her had increased tenfold. 

“What should I do?” he asked then, his voice sounding years younger than he was, vulnerable and fearful, begging for guidance. Because he really did not do what to do about this.

“It is up to you, I’m afraid,” Bash answered.

“As much as I’d love to tell you what I think you should do, that wouldn’t help. You need to make your own decision about this.”

“What if I genuinely can’t choose? I really don’t know what I should do,” Gilbert said, feeling the exhaustion pulling at him.

“I don’t know what to say to you to help,” Bash admitted.

“I wish that Mary were here, she’d know exactly how to help you handle this,” he added.

“She would,” Gilbert agreed, nodding, a wistful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth at the thought. Mary really would know what to say.

“But I know that if she were here, she’d say something along the lines of, if you follow your own feelings, your own intuition, whatever choice you make will be the right one,” Bash said, reaching across the kitchen table to set his hand on top of Gilbert’s, squeezing it reassuringly, his gaze honest.

“Alright,” Gilbert said, meeting his gaze with a tired but relieved smile. The secret was out, there was no going back now. Now it was time to figure out how he would proceed from here. 

“And while you think, reflect, know that you can always come to me. I can’t tell you what to choose, but I can be someone to talk to to help you through this,” Bash told him, his voice calm, his expression reassuring and supportive.

“And if there is something you’re too embarrassed to tell me, like I said, Dellie is a good listener, she won’t tattle,” he added, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile as he cocked his head towards the hallway.

“Alright, I’ll keep it in mind,” Gilbert said with a nod.

“But now I think I need some sleep, try to start getting my brain in order,” he added, yawning as he got up.

“Yes of course. You can sleep in tomorrow if you’d like, I won’t be needing your help until after lunch,” Bash said, also getting up from the table.

“Thank you,” Gilbert said, relief flooding him at the thought of getting to stay in bed tomorrow.

“And thank you for everything. For listening, for understanding. I think I’ll need time to think this through, but I’m sure I’ll be coming to talk to you again,” he added, setting his hand on Bash’s shoulder, really hoping his tired words could convey how much he really appreciated his help.

“Any time,” Bash said with a nod of understanding.

And with that they both left the kitchen, quietly navigating the house to go to their rooms, and go to sleep. And before Gilbert could finally fall into bed, to hopefully get to invigorate his brain and finally shed the daze of that night, he looked out the window at the solitary moon, grateful he now had someone to share his deepest secret with. It was already that much easier to bear, his frustration and confusion giving way to excitement and optimism. And as he went to bed, recounting the events of the day one last time, the memories were now tinted with a golden hue, the intensity and vividness of his feelings still there, but marked with a sense of calm, reassuring happiness, making him feel like everything was going to be okay. The feeling was comforting, and exhilarating, old and new at the same time, and it sounded a lot like Anne’s laughter in the clear summer night. 


End file.
